


Leave In Summer...

by Biscuit Lion (cookiethelion)



Series: Valet Service [6]
Category: British Comedian RPF
Genre: Animal Transformation, Apes & Monkeys, Chinese Zodiac, Crack, Dog(s), Dragons, Fights, Horses, M/M, Master/Servant, Rooster(s), Sheep & Goats, hints of slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-05
Updated: 2012-06-28
Packaged: 2017-11-06 21:57:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/423707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cookiethelion/pseuds/Biscuit%20Lion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now that the Western Valets are re-emerging, Milton decides to make sure his members are safe, even if it means having to take measures to do it...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by Samurottsan  
> \----
> 
> 1\. [Valet Service](http://archiveofourown.org/works/326601)  
> 2\. [Do-It-Yourself](http://archiveofourown.org/works/329398/chapters/531504)  
> 3\. [Shadow Puppets](http://archiveofourown.org/works/332687/chapters/537393)  
> 4\. [Three Of A Kind](http://archiveofourown.org/works/347835/chapters/565322)  
> 5\. [Goats & Dogs (and a Dragon)](http://archiveofourown.org/works/367242/chapters/596962)  
> 6\. [One For The Enemy](http://archiveofourown.org/works/385254/chapters/630833)  
> 7\. **Leave In Summer...**  
>  8\. [...Yet You're Here In My Fluffoughts](http://archiveofourown.org/works/456509/chapters/785402)  
> 9\. [World Is Mine](http://archiveofourown.org/works/493852)  
> 10\. [Hurting For A Very Hurtful Pain](http://archiveofourown.org/works/501077/chapters/879676)  
> \----
> 
> I had a lot of unexpected free time on my hands, so I ended up writing the first two chapters. And yes, there is a reason why I called this Leave In Summer. Let's say, if you Google it, the full title will come up.  
> \----
> 
> DISCLAIMER:  
> I own nothing except the plot and Zodiac Valet concept. This fanfiction was written purely for fun, and not for profit. Any persons written is not intended to represent the real person.

Milton swooped into the forest once he had sighted the roof of the tree house. At this time, he should still be in the flat, cleaning up after Humphrey’s mess, but he had been given orders to check on all of his members after Valet Gemini’s ambush, and right now, he had seen everyone except for Matthew, Tom and Ben.

Milton landed on the porch and knocked on Matthew’s door; when there was no answer, he knocked again, but still nothing. He doubted that Matthew would have gone round to the flat this early; there were still several hours before he had to go back and wake up his master. As he flew down to the ground, he wondered if Matthew had gone to find Tom and Ben; as he recalled, he had mentioned something about their tree house being close to his. Before Milton touched ground, he swerved upwards and started to weave through the other trees.

He didn’t go very far when he heard what sounded like pieces of metal clashing. Regardless of what it was, Milton followed the direction of the noise, perching atop a tree once he reached his destination.

Opposite him was a large tree (although, to Milton’s perspective, it looked as if someone had helped it grow to that size), in which a house had been built. The exterior was the same as Matthew’s, but it was much bigger, and fitting for at least two people. Underneath was a clearing in which the three people he wanted to find were there; Matthew was leaning against the tree, his arms folded, observing the practice spar that was going on between Tom and Ben.

Ben was kitted out in a helmet, chest plate, wing guards, and gauntlets, although each piece (bar the wing guards) of his armour was dented in at least two places; by comparison, Tom – now with a monkey tail that reached his knees – was armour-free, but he was holding onto an iron-tipped, wooden handle staff that was about an inch or two shorter than him. Despite that, he twirled it in circles with ease, a grin on his face as he steadied himself.

“Come on Clarkey, you first,” he said.

Ben jumped and his wings started to flap; his guards bent and waved in beat, moving like they were a natural joint. He remained static for several seconds, during which he shed two or three feathers; then, he glided upwards, albeit with some hesitation, snapped his wings open, and shot downwards, the current ruffling under his feathers as he aimed at Tom –

The latter raised his staff and swung it vertically, blocking the blow from Ben; he also grabbed the staff, but he lost his balance and flopped onto the ground, his knees landing first. He was already trying to avoid contact, but Tom kicked him on his thigh, thus forcing his grasp off the staff. Now free, he jabbed the metal end at his stomach, scraping his chest on the way; the force pushed Ben over which, under normal circumstances, would have left him exposed to a potentially fatal blow.

Tom took several steps back and waited for Ben to stagger to his feet; when the latter did, he was rubbing the spot, where a new dent had been formed. Despite that, he seemed ready for another round, and Tom grinned at him as he shifted his grasp, so that both hands were holding onto his staff like he was about to pole vault with it.

“Tom – stop –” Matthew leapt in between the two Valets, waving his arms. “You’re going to kill Ben if you do that.”

“Clarkey’s fine, he’s used to it,” said Tom. He resumed holding onto his staff with one hand, then spun it round before jabbing the wooden end onto the ground.

“His armour was brand new this morning, look at it –”

Ben shook his wings, thus brushing back Matthew. “I’m fine. I’ve had worse, a few bruises isn’t going to hurt.”

“See? Come on, Matthew, he’s made of metal. Anyway, it’s your turn.”

“To do what?” said Matthew. “If you think I’m going to fight you –”

“Of course you are.”

“Oh my God, no, not after what I’ve just seen. You’re going to break all my bones if I let you. I’d rather fight Ben.”

“I’ll go easy on you.”

“Your ‘easy’ is still enough to kill me.”

At that point, Milton had seen enough; he didn’t want to disturb them, not when he really did have other things to do. As long as they were keeping up, ready to defend themselves if necessary, he saw no need to interfere, and he returned to the flat.

***

Milton hadn’t been back long when the doorbell rang. He slipped into Humphrey’s room and hung up his coat in his wardrobe, and he left just as his master opened the door.

“…Thom?”

“Hi Humphrey –” Thom leapt onto him, pushing him backwards as he kissed his cheek before he let go and turned to Milton. “– Sweetheart –”

Milton leapt back, but Thom grabbed his wrist and pulled him forward; once close enough, Thom stopped him by hugging his neck, and then also kissed him on the cheek. He let go only when Milton managed to prise his fingers off him.

“What’re you doing here, Tuck?”

“Like you, I’ve been checking on my members, and I’ve only got Tim and Mark left to see. Since you were en route, I thought I’d come and see how you are.”

“I’m fine, now if you could –”

Milton tried to shove him towards the door, but Thom pushed him back, forcing him into Humphrey’s room. He kicked the door shut, and then leaned in, his eyes flickering between the other leader and his Item.

“If I were you, I’d ask your free members to find masters,” he said. “Word’s going round that Carr, O’Doherty, Herring, Perkins and Brooker have all managed to do it.”

“What about you?”

“I’m not concerned about Ingrid; she can manage, _and_ she’s got Lorna with her. When I see Tim and Mark, I’ll try persuading them. As for Miles … I’ve had a word with him.”

“What if I make Lorna find a master?”

“Even if Lorna _is_ gone, Ingrid will be alright. Like I said, I’m not concerned about her.”

“Thanks Tuck, I’ll get in touch with them.” Milton pushed the door open and waited for Thom to leave. The latter tried to kiss him again, but he clicked his fingers and a gust blew him out.

“That’s a bit rough of you, sweetheart.”

“Milton. I’m sure Humphrey can see you out.” He shut the door and clicked his fingers again, creating a small hurricane to block it from being opened, and he kept it up until he heard Thom leave for good.

Now that the wind was gone, he turned around and picked up his Item, but then put it down as he settled on seeing Tom, Ben and Matthew first. After all, they were the easiest to find, and he knew they weren’t doing much, not after seeing them that morning.

***

When Milton arrived at the tree houses, he wasn’t surprised to see Tom – now without his monkey features – and Ben – now carrying an even more dented chest plate – leaning against the tree, hunched over and breathing in and out as they took a break from training. Only Matthew was still upstanding and injury free.

“Hi Milton,” he said. Tom and Ben were too breathless to speak, but he knew they would have otherwise also greeted him.

“Tom, Ben, Matthew,” said Milton. “Have you just finished…?”

“Tom tried to drag me into it, but I stopped him. Anyway, is there something you want to…?”

“Yes. You should know by now that the Western Valets have returned. We may have beaten Valet Gemini, but I’m worried that the others won’t be as easy as him … particularly if they are after your Items.”

At those words, Ben flung his hand into Tom’s as the latter looked up. Matthew straightened up even more, but he also folded his arms even tighter.

“If you’re suggesting what I think you are, no,” said Tom. Judging by his current state, it was difficult to believe that a few moments ago he had been out of breath. “And I think I can speak for Clarkey and say no as well.”

“Sorry, but I’m saying no as well,” said Matthew.

“I don’t want to force you, but you need masters for several purposes, mainly to stop the Western Valets to stop doing the worst amount of damage they can to you,” said Milton.

“I know, but I don’t think it’s convenient for any of us to start serving again right now.”

“You have nothing to do all day, so what’s stopping you?”

“You’re not splitting me from Clarkey,” said Tom. His knuckles started to turn white as he gripped Ben’s hand. “We’re staying together.”

“Don’t – you two have been free … for … two … years …” Now that he thought about it, it had been around that time that they had started going out. His face felt warm as he realised their meaning, and his hands twitched into a fist. “A lot of us are serving when we have other halves, so why can’t you do the same?”

Ben shrank closer to Tom, and the latter slipped his hand out of Ben’s before resting it on his shoulders, though his hand reached for the spine of his left wing. “We can’t explain right now. You have to trust us, we can’t find a new master yet.”

“I can’t start as well,” said Matthew. “Not when I’m just … starting with … you know.”

Milton gritted his teeth as his arms began to shake. “You’re choosing to defy what’s expected of you … because you would rather be with your boyfriend?”

“It’s not like that, it’s just … why are you forcing us to find someone? It’s not like we’re definitely going to be targeted by the Western Valets.”

“I’m also hoping you won’t be affected, but even if this wasn’t happening, how can you be satisfied with doing nothing all day? We’re meant to work for the rest of our lives.”

“I told you, I’m not going to be split from Ben,” said Tom. He took a step forward, as if squaring up to his leader. “I’m sorry, Milton, but –”

“Tom – don’t –” said Matthew. He was looking at the two Valets, his arms now out by his side. His habit of interrupting Tom mid-sentence did little to help; Milton also stepped forward, staring into his eyes, his chest rising and falling faster and closer with each intake. Tom remained unflinching, glaring back at him, his free hand also shifting into a fist.

After a while, he shifted his view and glanced at the staff. The only weapon within reach was propped against the tree, and was closer to Tom, though that didn't stop him from taking a step forward and grabbing for it at the same time.

A feather floated in front of them as Ben stepped out of Tom's grip. Matthew also started back, his hands open, but his palms weren't glowing. Milton ignored them as he was beaten to the staff by Tom; regardless, he still grabbed the weapon on the handle, and he curled his other hand into a talon.

“Get off –”

Milton flung his free hand in Tom's direction and a much stronger gust of wind pushed him back, though he remained holding onto the wooden end. He tugged harder, but Milton trod on his foot, forcing him to lessen his grip; as if it wasn't enough, he then kneed him in the stomach, and it was enough to send him rolling backwards.

“Tom –” said Ben as he ran over to him.

Tom got up without help, though now his monkey tail – which had re-appeared as an involuntary reflex – was now swishing from side to side. His palms were hidden by his fists, but they didn't seem to be glowing.

Milton had shifted his grip so that both hands were holding onto the handle, and the metal end was pointing at Tom. He hesitated, and although his arms appeared to be still, the staff was shaking. Ben took a step forward, ready to defend if they _were_ attacked, but Tom put a hand on his shoulder and eased him back.

“Tom...”

He gave no reaction, and remained standing in front. Milton's hands were losing colour until he threw the staff down. He lingered for a while longer, giving protracted stares at each of his members, before he turned on his heel and stormed away, disappearing from sight first before he flew back to the flat.


	2. Chapter 2

Milton didn’t need to come close to the window to see that someone else was over at the flat; he couldn’t quite see who, but if he had to make a guess, he was certain it couldn’t be Matthew. He went in through the front stairs, but not before he took off his coat and draped it over his arm so that only the back was showing.

He was about to ring the doorbell when the door opened, and Gertrude stepped out, though Humphrey remained standing on the other side. She was holding onto a mug, though all that was inside was a dribble of coffee, and there were stains around the rim.

“Oh, hey Milton,” she said. Her eyes were drawn to his face, and she seemed to have ignored his coat. “I haven’t seen you in ages, how are you?”

At first, she looked no different last time, although Milton suspected she had dyed her hair again, as there was now a dark violet shine; on closer inspection, it was only then that Milton noticed her legs weren’t as slender as he had first thought them. Like her arms, they had a muscular build, but it was so faint they were hidden in darker lighting.

“Hi Gertrude,” he said. “I’m fine. How are you?”

“I’m good. Humphrey didn’t tell me when you were coming back.”

“He never knows when I come back. I like to be unpredictable, don’t I?”

“…You do,” said Humphrey. His fingers were drumming on the doorknob, and he was looking alarmed at him.

Gertrude kept looking up at Milton. “Ah, you’re just like me. I like to be unpredictable as well, it’s so much fun, isn’t it?” She shrugged her shoulders, a grin on her face, her eyes now staring directly into Milton’s.

“…I think so…” said Milton.

“Ha, you sound a lot like my ex,” she said. She tossed her hair back and pulled the hem of her skirt lower, all without breaking eye contact. “Anyway, I really need to go now.” She turned around. “Thanks for the sugar.”

“No problem,” said Humphrey.

“If you need me, you know where to find me. Bye – bye –” She raised her mug-free hand and waved at both of them, though she paid less attention to Humphrey and more to Milton. He waved in return, though it wasn’t as exaggerated as hers.

“Bye,” said Humphrey. They waited until she had descended down at least one set of stairs before Milton stepped into the flat, and Humphrey locked the door behind him.

Milton slipped his coat on again, and then turned around to face Humphrey. “Was that really _all_ she was over for?”

“Yes,” said Humphrey. He too had turned around. “Don’t make it sound like she tried to get it off with me.”

“So you’re certain you _don’t_ have anything to tell Matthew?”

“Of course I don’t. Look, I know you’re not happy that I’m going out with him, but what’s he done to offend you? You never gave a shit about my other relationships.”

Milton brushed past Humphrey and started to tidy up the table, though his hands were shaking. “He’s … I’d rather not talk about it. There are some things I can’t tell you.”

Humphrey stayed quiet on that topic for the rest of the day, but he continued to keep an eye his Valet. The standard of his work had fallen, but he was in such a bad mood, Humphrey didn’t want to scold him for it. Not wanting to upset his Valet, he made an effort to tidy up after himself, and although Milton said nothing, he was certain that he could see the change in his behaviour.

When night fell, Milton's mood didn't get any better; he resorted to scrubbing the bathtub clean, going over it until he had made it beyond shiny. He only stopped when he felt he was going to break through the surface; even when he did, he paused, and then slammed a fist into it.

"Milton..."

He turned around and, seeing Humphrey standing behind him, he stood upright and straightened his coat.

"Sorry," he said. "I won't do it again." He passed his master and left for his room, his face reddening.

***

Ben turned over, his eyes open, before he tossed the other way again, now facing the back of Tom's head. He stayed that way for a while, and then sat up.

"Tom."

The latter turned and sat up. "How did you know I wasn't asleep?"

"You hadn't kicked me out of bed yet."

"Ah. Am I that predictable?"

"I've been going out with you for two years, I know what you're like by now."

Tom grinned, and then looked more seriously at him. "You can't sleep either, can you?"

Ben shook his head. "Do you think we should ... you know?"

"No, don't say that." Tom moved closer to him and put an arm around his waist. "You're not ready yet, and don't try telling me you are. I can tell."

"I don't want to stop you. You know what Milton's like."

"I can't leave you behind, Clarkey. You know what I mean."

"Yeah, but..." Pause. "Do you think Matthew's managed to sleep?"

"I suppose we could go over, I don't think we'll be sleeping soon, will we?"

Seeing as the answer was no, they got out of bed, grabbed their Items and left for Matthew's. Tom, now in monkey form, leapt between trees, grabbing and swinging off the branches; beneath him, Ben walked, even though his wings had materialised. When he arrived, Tom was already there, perching on a nearby branch. Ben ignored him and touched his cravat; seconds later, now in his rooster form, he jumped up, clawing the tree with his talons, his wings beating to give him the tailwind to speed up his climb.

"Impressive stuff," said Tom when Ben arrived. The latter paused, and then changed back; he was out of breath, and didn't answer for a while.

"I've been practicing," he said. "Have you –?"

The door opened and Matthew stepped out; his hair was still neat, and although his eyes were bloodshot, he didn't look anymore tired or indeed surprised that Tom and Ben were at his doorstep.

"You can't sleep either, can you?" he said.

"Not really, Matthew, just a bit restless, that's all," said Tom.

Silence. None of them were looking at each other; they knew what was bugging each other, yet every solution they could imagine wasn't idyllic. How could they come to some sort of compromise without enraging Milton again? It seemed impossible, and there appeared to be no visible solution...

"Have you thought about ...?" said Matthew.

"I suggested it to Tom, but..." said Ben. He spoke to the floor instead.

"You know how I feel about it," said Tom. "Never mind about us, Matthew, what about you?"

"What do you mean?" said Matthew.

"Are you going to try finding a master?"

"I don't know. I might, but I like being free. It's too tiring having to work all the time."

"You could always go for someone close to you."

Ben looked up, and Matthew started as he realised what those words meant.

"You can't mean Humphrey?"

"Well, why not? I don't think he has anyone."

Matthew paused; he couldn't tell them his suspicions, not when it was going to potentially breach his contract. "That’s the problem. I don't ... I think he already _has_ someone."

"You think Milton..."

Pause. "How do you see it?"

"It doesn't matter, I think you should give it a go anyway. If he really does have a Valet, he'll only find out you're not ... like him."

"That's why I _don't_ want to try it. It's already irritating with Milton getting pissed off at me, I don't want Humphrey knowing my real identity. It's going to do us no good at all."

"Come on Matthew, it's worth a try."

"Tom, stop forcing him," said Ben. "Matthew can find someone else."

"Yeah, but we know what Humphrey's like." Pause. Tom glanced at Ben's wings, and Matthew pulled back his sleeve slightly, looking down at the faint marks on his arm. "That's why I suggested him."

"Tom, I know you mean well, but I can't ... forget it. I am _not_ going to try and have Humphrey as my master."

"Matthew -"

"Don't try to persuade me. I'm going to sleep. Night guys." Matthew didn't wait for a response when he shut the door.

Ben looked at Tom, but started back. "Tom, you're not thinking of ... are you?"

"What? If we can get Matthew a master, maybe Milton won't push us so hard."

"I don't like where this is going." Ben had hardly finished when Tom's face lit up and he twisted his nipple.

"I've got it. We just wait for Crossbow to fall asleep first..."

***

Humphrey yelped as Milton slapped his shoulder and pushed him over towards the wall; he said nothing, and, seeing as his master was now awake, he pulled the wardrobe doors open and tore out clothes and hangers onto the bed. He left shortly afterwards, without once looking back at his master.

Humphrey followed him out minutes later, just as his breakfast skidded onto the table. He only had to look at it to tell that he would be bedbound with food poisoning if he took a bite, and when he sat down, he looked at Milton.

"Milton," he said. "Are you alright?"

"What do you think?" Milton caught himself out with his own words and tone, and after a pause, he said, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

"It's alright, I know you're not ... what's happened?"

"I ... have Clan problems. I shouldn't trouble you with them."

"I don't mind if you tell me."

"I do." Pause. Milton lifted the frying pan into the sink and started to scrub it clean. "Do you really want to know?"

"Yes."

"I'm worried about some of my members. They don't have masters, and right now, it's too dangerous for any Zodiac Valet to be free. It's their Items I'm concerned about. I saw them yesterday, and ... they were insistent on staying together."

"It's their choice if they want to be free."

"I wish it was. As a Zodiac Valet, we have expectations placed on us. We have to serve, it's why we exist. As Clan leader, I have to ensure my members' welfare, and my Clan's honour; do you really think I can bear to watch my members rebel against what our ancestors achieved?”

“I guess you can’t.”

“I had to step in … but I feel like a hypocrite.”

Pause. Humphrey inched the plate away from him. “How come?”

Milton flipped the pan over and scrubbed the underside for a while before he gave an answer. “Of course I understand their feelings … that sense that every human being is an idiot, that they’re not worth bothering with anymore. Every Zodiac Valet goes through that stage … but as leader, I have a set of additional duties to attend to … including forcing my members to be compliant.”

Silence. Humphrey watched Milton dry and put the pan away, all while he continued to push his plate away. Milton turned to him at last, and then grabbed his breakfast; he flipped the bin lid open, and tipped the food in.

“I’ll cook you another one,” he said.

“I’d rather you didn’t –” Realising how wrong that sentence could sound, Humphrey hesitated, and then said, “– you’re … already … stressed, you don’t … need to do the cooking for today. I’ll get something from the shops.”

Milton stared at him, eyebrows raised. “So, as long as I’m in a bad mood, you’ll make arrangements for me…”

“No – no – don’t get any ideas, Milton –”

“Thanks Humphrey. I appreciate it.”

“I see you’re in a better mood, I don’t need to –”

Milton rolled his eyes as he grabbed the pan again. “I knew it was too good to be true.” He looked at Humphrey, and they broke away giggling.

For the next few hours, Milton’s mood improved, and Humphrey’s behaviour shifted back to normal; he started leaving a trail of mess behind him again without fearing his Valet would turn on him. However, when the doorbell rang, Humphrey went to fetch it, aware that Milton’s eyes were following him; he stopped at the door, and turned round.

“What’s the matter?” he said.

“Nothing,” said Milton, though after a pause. He took off his coat and went into his room, slamming his door shut.

Humphrey continued to stare at the spot, until the doorbell rang again; he opened the door, leaving a gap first for him to see who it was, and then he swung it wide open. Behind him, Milton emerged, and when he caught sight of their visitor, he tilted his head away and flung Humphrey’s door open, storming in first before he pulled it shut. The resulting bang echoed in the flat, and it was the first time his master was aware that he had left his room.

“…Matthew…”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, first update since coming back to England. While I was away, I got a new phone, and since playing around with the features, I've started drawing (very rough) concept art. If I'm feeling brave enough, I'll start uploading them! (first one hopefully coming next chapter)

“Hi Humphrey,” said Matthew as he entered. “Was that Milton just then?”

“Yes. Ignore him, he’s been really upset since yesterday.”

“…Did he say why?”

Pause. “Not really. I tried asking, but he didn’t want to say too much.” The subject was getting too close for Humphrey’s liking, and he glanced at Matthew for a distraction. He saw him holding onto a bag which he was certain belonged to Ben. “Isn’t that –?”

“It’s Clarkey’s. He left it at mine last night. I tried to see him just now but he doesn’t appear to be in.” He glanced at Humphrey’s room, and saw Milton peering out from a crack, though he appeared to be interested in the bag; when he caught his eye, Milton shut the door again.

“He’s usually not that weird,” said Humphrey.

“I know, I –” Matthew started as he felt something vibrate in the bag, and he pressed his elbow against it; even though his move stopped it, it still took a while for him to look up from the floor, or loosen his arm a little. He knew what that buzzing had meant – Milton had sent him a message…

“Matthew? Matthew? What’s the matter?”

Matthew glanced over his shoulder at Humphrey’s room, and sidestepped away. “…I’m fine. Humphrey, I –”

Behind them, the door swung open, but it took Milton a while to step out; his glare was fixed on Matthew alone, but the latter kept his eyes down or up at Humphrey. He didn’t realise it, but both his hands were gripping the bag; he could feel the tip of his horns poking his palm – his actual, real Item, and not the ones he had seen sitting on his table several hours ago.

“Humphrey.” Milton couldn’t get far before he swallowed, trying to keep his tone as even as possible. “Your window’s jammed.”

“How –? It was working this morning.”

“I’ve had a look, but I can’t find what the problem is.”

“Milton, can’t this wait? I –”

“It’s fine, Humphrey, you go and take a look,” said Matthew. He looked at Milton, but even then he avoided his eyes, settling instead on his shoulder. There was a pause, and then he eyed Humphrey as he walked past him; he wished he could meet his eye, but he didn’t want to give anything away.

Milton waited until Humphrey was passing him when he looked up at him and raised his eyebrows; the latter halted, and then realising what his Valet meant, once he entered his room, he shut the door behind him.

“…Milton, I – argh –”

Milton had tackled him from behind, pushing him face forward onto the floor; the tackle had been muffled with a draft of wind, and he could feel him exhaling hot breaths into his ear as he sat on his hips, one arm pinning his neck down, the other hand groping the horns. It wasn’t long before Milton’s hand slipped off the bag, and Matthew could feel his breaths heating up.

“You … dare to … take your Item …”

“Milton … listen to me, I …” Matthew kept his head still; Milton’s lips were so close to his ear, if he turned to look at him, he would be in danger of kissing him.

“Don’t make excuses, Crosby. You’ve gone too far this time.” His free hand started to glow, the palm turned on Matthew –

“Stop – Humphrey’s not –” Milton paused, then threw a glance over his shoulder; the door was still shut. The glowing stopped, although his palm remained hovering. “Milton, I swear I don’t know either, I saw them on my table this morning, I thought –”

“You … _know_ Humphrey’s already got a Valet.”

“Yes … I do …”

“Why … _why_ …?”

“I swear I didn’t … I …”

“If you … didn’t know …” Milton leaned in closer, and was now speaking directly into his ear. “… then how do you … explain …?”

Matthew flinched as he tried to think of an answer. Milton was right, how could they have got in there? Unless – “…Tom…”

Pause. “What was that?”

“It must have been Tom …”

Milton pulled back, though he remained sitting on Matthew. “You mean to tell me … that Tom switched your Item … without you knowing?”

“…Yes.”

“How?”

“… He must have made a duplicate with wood …”

Milton paused, and then got off the other Valet. He held out his hand, and Matthew took it as he got up; seconds later, he winced as Milton intensified his grip, draining the colour out of his hand and fingernails. Matthew wrestled out of his hold and stumbled back until he was at least a sofa’s distance away from his leader.

“I trust you this time, Crosby, but if I find you’ve lied to me…” Milton held out his hand again, and Matthew clutched the bag closer to him. “Give me the bag.”

Matthew shook his head as he took another step back.

“You know it’s not safe here,” said Milton.

“I can look after it. Nothing happens if I don’t take it out.”

“What if Humphrey asks what’s in there?”

“He knows the bag’s not mine. He won’t ask.”

Pause. “Right – fine – I don’t have the time to deal with you.” Milton turned around and headed for the front door; Matthew glanced down at his arms, and then looked up again.

“What do you mean, deal with me?” he said. “Milton … what are you going to do?”

“Tell Humphrey I won’t be back for the next few hours.”

“Milton …” He ran after his leader, but had barely got past the sofa when the door shut again, and the locks turned from outside.

***

When the knock on the door came, Ben glanced at Tom, tilting his head in that direction. He waited for him to go and answer first; after all, it had been his idea, and if that was Milton on the other side...

"... Milton ..."

"Be honest with me, Parry." Pause. "Did you ... take Crosby's Item and ... try to force him ... to have Humphrey as his master?"

"Yeah, I did."

A gust pushed Ben out of the way; seconds later, Tom was knocked over, back-first, onto the floor by another breeze, and Milton glided on the same wind, landing on top of him. He seized his shirt's collar and pulled him up with so much force their foreheads nearly collided.

"You ... you ...I've had _enough_ with you."

Milton dragged Tom out from underneath him and, with the help of more wind, threw him towards the wall; the monkey stood no chance, and when he landed, he rolled over several times, using it to break his fall.

"Tom -" said Ben as he started to run over to help.

"Get back," said Tom. For someone who had just been thrown across his house, he recovered at a fast speed, though as he stood up, he elbowed his plank, thus changing into a monkey. He ran and hopped off the back of a chair, before he dived under the table, and pushed one of its legs to maintain the force needed to slide out of the front door.

Milton ran after him, and then flew down the tree; he could sense Ben doing the same behind him, and he made sure to land further away, though he still had to use his powers to ensure the rooster had a safe landing. Opposite them, Tom was now in human form again, a monkey tail swaying between his legs; his palms were glowing, but his hands were cupped.

“I don’t want to fight,” he said.

Milton’s hands turned into fists, and a gust of wind twisted around the three Valets, trapping them in a makeshift arena. “If I don’t teach you a lesson now…”

Tom said nothing, but, sensing he had no other choice, formed two batons in his hands; they were the same length as his lower arm, and he threw one to Milton, who caught it.

“Tom, don’t …” said Ben. He was lingering by the side, unsure whether to form pieces of his armour or not.

Both Valets ignored him, and they remained facing each other for a little longer before Milton half-glided half-shot over; he raised the baton above his head, and brought it down, only to be stopped at arm’s length. Tom twirled his staff, throwing Milton’s off his, and, taking a step forward, began to push him back as he spun and whacked both ends at him.

Right, left, right, down, left, right, down, up, left, up, right, right, right, left, down, down, left, left, up … no matter where Tom aimed, Milton moved fast enough to block him, which wasn’t too bad an effort for someone who was used to standing back and commanding the wind in fights.

Seeing as he wasn’t getting anywhere, Tom stood back, but Milton lunged at him, forcing him to defend. The dragon’s patience was wearing thin; with each strike, his strength was becoming stronger and stronger, and with each block, Tom was sinking under his forces. Eventually, he changed again, and, taking advantage of his smaller stature, he half-glided, half-forward-rolled between Milton’s legs.

Milton spun around and, not wanting to be outdone by the monkey, tossed his staff into the air, where it floated on its own for a moment (though with the help of an undercurrent of wind), and then shot at Tom.

"Stop –" Ben threw himself between the two Valets, wearing no armour; by the time Milton realised, he was too late, and the end of the staff jabbed into Ben's left wing.

Tom's face fell and he threw his staff aside as he ran to Ben, who was wincing and had wrapped his wings around his body; the wind died around them, and Milton’s staff also landed on the ground. Ben looked up at him, and he only had to take in his look to know what to do; without saying anything, he backed off, but not without shooting Tom – now in human form – one final look before he took off.

He intended to go back to the flat, but he hadn't gone very far when he noticed someone running through the forest. He normally wouldn't pry into these matters, particularly not in his state, but this time, he thought he recognised the half-horse, half-man that was on the run...

He landed not too far ahead, hoping to intercept him; seconds later, The Boy appeared, pulling up in time to avoid a collision. He stared at his leader, not once breaking to blink. Milton hesitated, not in the least because he didn't know what to say.

"...Hello?" he said.

The Boy tilted his head and raised his hand, but he didn't wave. He rolled his eyes wider, and then started as he heard someone running behind him. With a glance over his shoulder, he galloped past Milton and disappeared ahead.

"Ah - sweetheart -"

As he clicked his fingers, Milton wished he had gone with The Boy; his breeze tripped Thom over, and he started to retreat. The latter wasn't ready to give up that easily, and he grabbed the other leader's ankles, forcing him down as well, before he climbed on top and hugged him.

"Get - OFF - Tuck -"

Milton elbowed Thom in the stomach, and then kicked him in the hip with his heel; the combination of blows was enough to force the leader off him, and he sprung up to his feet, his palms glowing. Thom got up rubbing his stomach, and seemed to be trying not to wince from his hip.

“That really hurt,” he said.

“If you have nothing to say to me, get out of my way, Tuck.”

“Ooooh, someone’s angry.”

“I mean it.”

“How’s the Clan business going?” Milton flashed him a glare, and he took a step back. “I was only asking, sweetheart.”

“ _Milton_.”

“Alright, I _do_ have something I need your help … with …”

Thom and Milton were distracted as a goat with a bag around his neck ran past; he was coming from the same direction The Boy had disappeared to, and unless Milton was mistaken, he was certain that was Matthew. He flew after the goat, unsure whether he was following or chasing him; he was a good excuse to get away from Thom, but when he saw him, he thought back to their argument, and that gave him half a mind to throttle Matthew first before moving on to Tom and Ben.

Matthew glanced over his shoulder, started, and then dashed even faster, his hooves sinking into and kicking up soil and grass as he tried to rush ahead. Milton glided higher, keeping his distance more or less the same; between going to Thom or Tom, he would rather face the one that had affections only for Ben.

With Matthew leading the way, it was the best time to confront them again if he had to.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note, my beta, Samurottsan, has given her sister access to the account, and is now known as PaperPrince.

When Matthew and Milton grew closer to Tom and Ben, the former darted off to the side, exposing Milton to the scene in front of him. He caught a glimpse, and it detracted him from his original purpose; he pulled up so that he was levitating, and then lowered to the ground, where he remained standing behind a tree.

Ben was sitting on the same spot Milton had injured him on, and his wings were spread out; Tom was kneeling beside him, his fingers forking back feathers to check if his wings really were alright. He seemed to be taking extra care around the center where Milton had, for a while, noticed the layers of feathers were thinner, and the flesh underneath more exposed.

"I'm fine," he said.

"Tom, you don't have to check this thoroughly, I'm fine."

Tom continued to search through his feathers anyway. "Don't say that, I saw where he hit you. You can't be fine."

Ben stayed silent as Tom brushed back the feathers covering the center of his wing. Milton squinted and, for the first time, saw a patch of raw-looking flesh with under-developed feathers and a scar. He leaned forward, trying to get a better view, but saw little else that was new.

"Tom..."

Tom didn’t look up as he continued to ruffle through the feathers. "It's been two years, Clarkey. Look at them, you've hardly grown the feathers back."

"Yeah, but it's not ... Come on, don't start. I'm not the only one, you're not over that incident yet."

"I'm trying to."

"It's going to take time for anything decent to grow back. Two years isn't much."

"I know, but I wasn't expecting it to be this ... I don't know how to ..."

"Stunted?"

"Yeah, that."

Ben eased Tom's hands off his wings and held onto them. "I don't want to hold you back. Milton's right, we need to -"

"Who's going to look after you?"

Pause. "Don't make it sound like we have no one else."

"I know, but what can Matthew or Milton do for you? They don't get it, you know what I mean."

"That's my point, I would sometimes rather it was ... not ..."

Ben dropped his glare down at his hands, trying to ignore Tom's eyes. Milton kept his glance on the latter, who seemed to know more about what Ben was implying.

"Clarkey..." Tom's voice was shaking, and his cheeks began to turn red.

"You keep saying you're trying to move on."

"You know I am."

"So why can't you find another master? Surely that's the best way to prove it."

Tom clutched Ben's hands even tighter. "Even if nothing had happened, I don't want to leave you."

"That's what Milton was trying to say. We can't keep putting off having masters because of each other, or anything that's happened before, including ... that incident."

"Since when did you start siding with Milton?"

"It's not about who I'm taking sides with, I just don't think the reason behind what you're doing is right."

Pause. "Clarkey ... what do you mean?"

"Be honest with me, Tom." Ben looked up. "Do you still think about what happened ... like you can't let it go?"

Now it was Tom's turn to look down and try to ignore his boyfriend. Ben knew enough, though, and he slipped his hands out of Tom's before he stood up and made his way deeper into the forest, leaving the latter still on the floor, still looking down.

Milton felt Matthew join him, and he pointed over his shoulder; Matthew nodded, and they walked further back until they could no longer see Tom.

"Did you know about this?" said Milton.

"No. They never told me how Clarkey lost those feathers. I didn't know they weren't growing until just now."

Pause. "What did they tell you happened that night?"

"They said Clarkey's master was coming onto him, and tried to ... you know ... but Tom saved him in time. Not long after that, Tom gave up his master as well."

"How did Tom get out of his contract?"

"I think he just stopped obeying his master. They had an excuse to end it early, and ... well, they haven't had anyone since."

"That's what they told me as well ... although it sounds like Ben lost his feathers around that time ..."

"Milton, I'm curious as well, but we can sort this out later, right? I know you didn’t mean for this to happen."

Milton sighed and shut his eyes. "I wish I hadn't ... tell Ben and Tom that ... I'm not going to push them any further. The same goes for you."

“Are you sure you –”

“Things have already gone far enough out of hand. I need someone to keep an eye on them for me.”

Matthew nodded, and then glanced over his shoulder; Milton followed his stare, and saw Thom lingering further back, his left shoulder leaning on a tree. They said nothing, but it was somehow enough to acknowledge that between them, they knew what had happened. Seeing as there was nothing left to say, Milton took several steps back, and started to fly back to the flat.

***

Milton never thought he would be glad to see Matthew the next morning, particularly after suffering from a sleepless night. Humphrey had already commented on how sleep deprived he looked (and how bloodshot his eyes were), and when he saw his member in a similar state, it made him more relieved that he wasn’t the only one.

“Matthew,” said Milton. He would have continued if he hadn’t caught Humphrey’s eye and, remembering where they were, pointed over his shoulder to his room. Matthew also ignored Humphrey as he entered Milton’s room first.

“Hello? Since when did I become invisible?” said Humphrey as he waved his arms. He was gawping at Milton, taken aback by the shift in behaviour and attention. His Valet paid him no attention though, apart from a stare that forced him into keeping quiet.

Milton shut the door behind him, and watched Matthew glance around the room, trying to find somewhere comfortable to stand in. The main reason why Milton never liked to keep his room door open was because of the interior. Before his arrival, it had been Humphrey’s study, and it was clear that it was better suited as that. The left hand side of the desk was scraping against the corner, as the right hand was pushing against his bed which, due to the lack of space, was slightly tilted against the wall. They had tried placing the desk vertically, but it occupied too much of the makeshift wardrobe – i.e. a pole with several hangers dangling from it. Milton had once measured the width of the place, and to his dismay, found that it was smaller than the bathroom by about an inch.

“You _can_ sit down. It’s going to be more comfortable than standing,” said Milton. Matthew pulled the chair back, and Milton sat down on the edge of the bed. “Anyway, how are Tom and Ben doing?”

“It’s not looking good,” said Matthew. “Ben came over to mine last night.”

“Did he say anything?”

“No, but neither of us could sleep. I told them that you weren’t going to push us anymore, but …”

“I know. I probably should have interfered earlier.”

“It’s not your fault, you didn’t expect it to end like this. I’ll try talking to them again.”

“Thanks. I really appreciate it.” Pause. “I’m not going to keep you away from Humphrey anymore.”

“Are you sure? I can –”

Milton interrupted him with a grin that he hoped looked natural. “I’ll be alright on my own. Besides, I’ve had enough with being selfish.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said I'd upload some concept art, so here goes. Looking back, I realise I've never described what Ben's wings look like, so here's a [drawing](http://i1067.photobucket.com/albums/u433/fluffappend/BensWings.png) (with his wing guard). I'm fairly pleased with how this one turned out, particularly with the bottom row of feathers (which, by the way, is based on the tail feathers of a rooster).


End file.
